


Fallen from grace

by WinterWolf610



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Darkfic, Dean Bears The Mark of Cain, Demon Dean, Demon Dean Winchester, Falling angel Castiel, M/M, Topping from the Bottom, noncon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-08
Updated: 2014-08-08
Packaged: 2018-02-12 07:53:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2101599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WinterWolf610/pseuds/WinterWolf610
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel is losing his grace and also his best friend. The once righteous man has disappeared and the falling angel is desperate to find Dean Winchester and see the effects of the Mark of Cain himself. When he finally catches up to him, Cas finds himself falling even further from grace.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fallen from grace

How it had happened he didn’t know, but he blamed himself regardless. It was his job after all, to protect them. Maybe if he’d said something, figured it out a little sooner, maybe, just maybe, he could have stopped it. That’s what family does, right? Look out for each other? There were too many questions to answer. All of them lead to the same place. He had failed his charges and now that this had happened, there was only one thing left to do.

He would have to find Dean.

Castiel sighed as he looked forlornly out at the park. He could not bring himself to move from that spot. It was a bright and sunny day and the joyous sounds of children playing would have reminded him of all the beautiful things that humanity offered. But there was no comfort in the scene for the angel. He saw none of it.

All he saw was his last memory of the hunter, his eyes green, green like a precious gem and a look of guarded tenderness for the angel deep in their depths.

If Angel Radio was to believed, they did didn't look like that anymore. They were murky, ink black.

Impossible, he thought. How could they be so dark? What caused this fall from grace? The smile on that would be on that perfect face didn’t belong there-it was wrong, inhuman, and not Dean’s. Where was the Righteous Man and who would be the imposter in his place, wearing his skin? This had to be the work of demons but the angel knew the hunter and his brother had anti-possession tattoos. Then this was the work of something big, some high level “pay grade” from the way it happened. Normal demons couldn’t do that. It had to be the Mark of Cain. But he had no chance to save Dean while he was in Heaven. Castiel was devastated.

He had failed to save Dean.

When he went to check on the hunter's brother, he could find nothing. The body of Sam Winchester surfaced in a morgue a few days later and Castiel went to see it for himself. Using the FBI badge Dean had made him, he had no trouble gaining access this time. He wanted to believe that it wasn’t him, that this was some kind of cruel joke, that surely God or someone would bring the younger Winchester brother back again but…

He failed Sam too and by failing Sam, he had failed Dean again. Everyone knew how much Dean sacrificed for his brother. Castiel prayed the younger Winchester’s soul was in Heaven because it was certainly no longer in his body. Castiel had pulled that body from Hell too-there was no mistaking it or the spinal cord severed by a knife to the back.

They had told him years ago in Heaven that that same lethal injury was what prompted the Righteous Man to sell his soul for his brother. That was the act that would lead to Castiel gripping Dean’s soul tight and raising it from Perdition. He had done it once-he would do it again. And Dean’s presence had been enough to let Sam wrest control from Lucifer; surely the news of his brother’s death would awaken something in Dean and give him the strength to fight back and escape from whatever malevolent force that had stolen him away from under his angel’s gaze. The search for Dean had to continue before it was too late. Castiel left the park in the blink of an eye.

Whilst Dean’s anti-possession tattoo seemed ineffective, his angel warding still was. Castiel searched everywhere he could think of for any sign of his charge. If Castiel was honest with himself, Dean was more than that, or he would be if he could save him. But the trail had gone cold. Looking around the abandoned warehouse he found himself in, Castiel recalled how he and Dean would call each other when they needed to find each other. Knowing it was pointless but daring to hope, Castiel pulled out his cell phone and selected Dean Winchester from his short contact list. He answered on the first ring.

“Dean! It’s Cas. I’m in an abandoned warehouse in Detroit-“

“I’m there now,” a familiar voice behind the angel says.

“Yeah, I get that,” the angel gruffly replies as he turns to face the source of the voice.

“I’m going to hang up now.” The words slip so effortlessly from those full lips.

“Right,” the angel responds automatically, deciding in that moment that he understood Dean’s idea of personal space and that he very much disliked having this memory of Dean turned on him and distorted. He stares at the man who suddenly appeared. To his surprise, the eyes that stare back are green, not black, and they seem to rake over his body as they had countless times before.

“Hi Cas.”

“Dean,” he gasped. “How did you become this?” the angel asked warily. He could see the twisted demon that Dean had become behind his beautiful human form. Cas couldn't believe it.

Dean hadn’t moved from the barely six inches away that he had suddenly appeared in. “Cas, buddy, it's the Mark but it's still me. It’s me, Cas.”

They continued to stare at each other. Cas wanted so badly to believe that this was all just a bad dream but he couldn’t. This was real. Dean was a demon. His angel blade began appearing in his hand before he was even conscious of willing it into existence. Feeling it in hand was shocking, horrifying even. Using his angel blade would mean ending this being in front of him, whether it was still Dean or a monster that he had become. If he slew Dean, the angel could not even process what that would mean: the end of Dean forever. The angel could not suppress the shudder that came at that thought. He would never be the one to end Dean. That much he was certain of. He willed the blade back out of existence.

“Dean, Sam is dead. I saw the body myself. His soul has departed.”

The reaction is not as the angel expects. The being before him, which Castiel refuses to accept is truly Dean, smirks as he walks away, before he turns and says, “Sammy’s soul is in Hell. I put it there myself. I killed him so that he could join me.” The shock of that statement makes it so that the angel doesn't see when Dean throws down his lighter.

A circle of holy fire ignited around the perimeter of the warehouse, trapping Castiel inside. There was no fleeing now so he had to keep this Dean-shaped being here and figure out how to save his Dean from this horrible fate. The angel needed to know what he was up against.

“What are you doing?” the angel demanded.

Green eyes flash and Dean throws his head back in a laugh. “Just doing what I've secretly always wanted to do. You've wanted it too.” He removed his shirts, showing off not only Dean’s beautiful upper body, but also the perfectly intact anti-possession tattoo.

“My Dean would never do this,” the angel growled. Castiel couldn’t believe that even under demonic influence, Dean would harm his brother or trap his angel. Sam had once resisted Lucifer long enough to throw them both in the Pit after all. The older Winchester was too stubborn and self-sacrificing to ever willingly let harm come to his brother and his angel, even under coercion or possession. This had to be some horrible effect of the Mark of Cain.

“There are a lot of things that I would like to, angel. I want to keep you with me." Dean keeps stripping off his clothes, his eyes never leaving Castiel. There’s a hunger in them that concerns the angel. They look like the eyes of a predator and Castiel is not used to being prey, particularly not to a demon, not even this one. He is an Angel of the Lord after all.

Even still, he cannot tear his eyes from the scene unfolding before him.

Dean’s body is now bare before him, completely unashamed of the interest it was showing. The angel’s mind couldn’t help but fill with unholy thoughts. “Like what you see?” the demonic-hunter teases, advancing on the angel.

The angel takes a few steps back and finds a pole against his back. Not just a pole-a large wooden cross that as soon as he makes contact with, seems to draw him in and before he can move away, he’s chained to the cross. Manacles attach to his wrists and bring them out to the arms of the cross. Chains wrap around his ankles, dragging them behind the cross and securing them so he cannot move. The position leaves his chest and hips pushed forward and he realizes that he too is bare now. He tries to focus his grace on escaping this but finds it weakened. He shakes his chains defiantly and glares out at his captor. “Release me,” he grits out.

“I’ve got you now, my pretty boy angel. I’m not letting you fly away this time. I’ve wanted you since I first saw you. You were so glorious and powerful, and you believed I was worth saving. You believe it still. Cas, let me show you how grateful I am.” The hunter gets on his knees in front of him, lips slightly parted and bright green eyes staring up almost shyly at his angel. He places his hands on the angel’s hips and caresses them lovingly, almost worshiping them.

The angel involuntarily closes his eyes at the touch. Ever since his vessel’s soul had gone to Heaven, leaving him alone in this body, the sensations were amplified. And he couldn’t deny that he had imagined Dean thanking him like this. But this wasn’t really Dean he reminded himself. His eyes opened again and his body tensed. “Dean, no-don’t do this, please.”

“Cas, I know you want this. You’ve wanted me to do this for a long time but you never pushed me. I’m not good with talking about my feelings. Let me show you instead.” Those full lips parted around the angel’s cock as he began to lick at the sensitive head. The hunter’s tongue finds the slit and Castiel can’t stifle the gasp that escapes him.

“Stop! Please don’t do this. Please,” the angel begged. Green eyes stared up at him as he watched his entire length disappear through those sinful lips. He had to look away. This violation would have been easier to bear if black eyes stared up at him but the hunter’s eyes remained green. He had imagined this too, but not like this. Even still, his traitorous body welcomed the feel of that wet velvety heat enveloping him. The desire to buck his hips forward and claim that mouth he’d always wanted was growing. The hunter’s cheeks hollowed as he applied suction, cupping the angel’s balls as he bobbed his head up and down, licking the shaft as he moved. It was almost too much to bear.

Castiel finds himself gripping the chains that bind him, willing himself to keep still. He looks away, tries to meditate, something, anything to keep his mind off what his body was feeling and the man who was making him feel this way. He seemed to relish forcing moans out of the angel’s lips. He was trying to break through the angel’s self-control. He wanted to reduce him to a quivering heap.

Castiel could not let him win. But the man didn’t fight fair. The delicious feeling of being down the hunter’s throat was threatening to undo him. One hand alternated between touching his balls and rubbing his pubic bone. The other snaked behind the angel, caressing and squeezing the firm muscles of his ass before reaching his puckered entrance.

A suddenly slick finger circled the hole before plunging inside, causing the angel to buck violently into the hunter’s mouth. The hunter pulled back a bit and began to hum as he smirked around the angel’s cock, bobbing his head along the shaft, all the while continuing to probe his hole and fondle his balls. The line between Heaven and Hell had never been finer than this moment.

The sensations were incredible, causing Castiel to cry out in bliss with the hunter’s every movement. Dean’s ministrations were as amazing as Cas had imagined them to be. But this wasn’t really Dean. Dean couldn’t appear out of nowhere or magically slick himself up. That cut through the haze of pleasure that he had sunk into.

The man seemed to notice. With an obscene pop, he pulled off and his hands moved to gently grip the angel’s hips. “What’s the matter, Cas? Aren’t you enjoying yourself? Or rather, enjoying me?”

The angel did not deign to reply. “I guess I’m just going to have to step up my game then,” the hunter said as he started to turn around. He bent forward to rest on one elbow as he spread his knees further apart, treating the angel to a very revealing view of the man’s entrance as he began to work himself open. First one finger working in and out, then two scissoring him open. When a third slipped in, the angel was moaning at the sight despite himself. “Cas…” Dean moaned as he impaled himself on his fingers.

It would be a lie to say the angel was unaffected by this. But as much as he was aroused, he was repulsed. This wasn’t Dean, as much as he wanted it to be. Whatever sinister force was compelling this demon Dean to do these things seemed to know how much the angel cared for the man. By perverting his fantasies, something might be breaking inside the angel. Cas wanted it to really be Dean moaning his name as he prepared himself. Caught up longing for his real hunter, Cas didn’t see the hunter get off his hands and knees. A hand on his cock brought the angel back to the current situation. Dean was bent over before him, gently guiding Cas’s cock into his loosened entrance.

The angel wept.

“No, not like this,” he begged. But his plea fell on deaf ears. He felt himself being eased deeper until he was buried to the hilt and Dean stilled. That moment of stillness felt longer than Castiel’s existence. He was willing what came next not to happen but it did. Dean, no not Dean-the demon began to move. He began to experiment as much as he could with Cas’s bound position. He shifted angles and changed speeds for a long while, seeking for the spot that would make him cry out. When he found it, he pursued it relentlessly, using Castiel to hit it every time. His orgasm came swiftly and violently and he was calling out the angel’s name as he spurted. Coming down from his own high, he had no more distractions from forcing the angel to the edge. He ground mercilessly into him.

“C’mon, Cas. Come for me, please. Fill me up and make me yours.” It was too much. He had won. The orgasm he had forced out of the angel was intense. Cas indeed filled up the hunter’s hole and it filled him with shame. Something so wrong shouldn’t have felt that good.

The man straightened up, letting the angel’s spent cock fall from his ass and he turned around.

“I love you, Cas. I always have.” And with that, he locked lips with the angel, kissing him passionately and making his head spin. Castiel, Heaven help him, kissed back with equal fervor.

He was lost.


End file.
